


prometheus

by pinklasers



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Chemistry, Fire, Gen, Pre-Series, Science, author has almost accidentally set herself on fire twice and it? shows?, minor description of violence, no beta we die like men, not the sexy kind either, unfortunate amount of exposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-08 20:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinklasers/pseuds/pinklasers
Summary: If flame alchemy was as simple as transmuting fuel and throwing a lighter at it, then surely everyone would have figured it out.or, 14-year-old Roy meets the Hawkeyes and almost burns down their house.





	prometheus

As alchemical transmutations went, the decomposition of water into its constituent elements was astoundingly basic. So basic, in fact, that one must wonder why it wasn’t done more often. Likely, it was because oxygen was plentiful in the atmosphere, and one tends to need water for more useful functions than transmutation (i.e., hydration). More likely was that Amestris focused itself on Earth-based alchemy, and aspiring alchemists preferred flashier (and more immediately useful) transmutations, such as a bed frame into a toy horse, or a broken plate into a whole one.

But never let it be said that Roy Mustang didn’t love himself a challenge. At the tender age of seven, he single-handed demonstrated that water decomposition could also be ‘flashy’ when he decomposed said water inside a sealed glass bottle and promptly found himself picking glass shards from his arms and flakes of the ceiling from his hair. He’d been forced to repair the bottle and the ceiling with alchemy, and was then promptly banned from doing alchemy for a month, which seven-year-old Roy creatively interpreted as  _don’t do alchemy where Madame Christmas or her evil spies could see_. This precluded the bar in its entirely, and, to be frank, most of Central.

It was hard being a child who was slightly predisposed towards mischief when your mother ran an underground spy ring. It was even _harder_ being a teenager.

And so Roy Mustang's first real interaction with Colonel Grumman occurred when the Colonel found a seven-year-old Roy, who had skipped school to practice his alchemy. He then introduced Roy to Berthold Hawkeye’s work – a long treatise on gaseous alchemy, which Roy had promptly devoured, a frankly horrific text on thermodynamics, which had almost made Roy cry, and numerous journal articles. Due to the military’s increasing control over alchemic research, Hawkeye had published fewer and fewer articles, until they had stopped entirely about 4 years after Roy was born. Lastly, Grumman was also the one who told Roy where the Hawkeyes lived, in case Roy wanted to be apprenticed.

Which, of course, he did.

Roy arrived at the Hawkeyes' estate with a genius plan to impress Master Hawkeye. See, Roy had observed that the first thing you do with an academic was to show admiration about their work. If you could get them rambling about their research and ask relevant questions when necessary, you could escape the entire interview process _and_ appear interested in their work. It was a bit of a gamble, since the consequences of getting theory wrong was higher, but the payoff was, in Roy’s opinion, worth it. After the customary schmoozing, he would then try one of his favourite transmutations: transmuting the gaseous water vapour and carbon dioxide inside an empty wine bottle into ethanol. As a backup plan, he had a bottle of water he could _also_ make into ethanol. (Some people put carbon dioxide into water to make fizzy water – Roy Mustang put carbon dioxide into water to make (slightly fizzy) alcohol.) He also knew _not_ to mention Colonel Grumman, as the Colonel had warned him that Master Hawkeye didn’t appreciate the military.

He knocked. His hands were trembling. He stuck them in his pockets and stared intently at the door.

Truth be told, the Hawkeye estate was not much of an estate. It showed all the signs of an once-ostentatious mansion that had tragically fallen decrepit due to an obvious lack of care. Money issues, perhaps, or perhaps its masters simply didn’t care. Roy knew that most of the rich in Central viewed their estates like a status symbol, and as thus presented it with as much care – perhaps more – than they would their children. It didn’t seem the case here.

Roy was just about to start contemplating the state of the lawn (bad) and the gardens (somehow simultaneously overgrown and wilted) when the door cracked open.

“Please state your name and business.” The voice was young, but stern. From what he could see through the crack, it looked like a young girl.

Roy cleared his throat. “Roy Mustang. I’m here to talk to Master Hawkeye about an apprenticeship.” He took a deep breath and flashed his most charming grin, “are you his daughter? It’s wonderful to see you.”

The girl ignored him and shut the door.

 

Well then.

Roy fidgeted more on the doorway. Etiquette and what common sense he had dictated that he wait a while before knocking a second time, but shutting the door in his face was a pretty clear dismissal, he thought. Unless the girl went to find her father(?) and simply didn’t inform him?

Sure enough, before long the door was jerked open again.

“Wait here,” the girl said.

“Right!” said Roy. He sticks his hands into his pockets to prevent further fidgeting.

“So!” Roy chirped, “what’s your name?”

“Riza Hawkeye,” the girl – Riza – said. She sat down on the front steps and opened a book.

Roy hesitated, but followed her down onto the staircase. “What are you reading?”

“A book,” seeing Roy open his mouth again, Riza sighed and continued, “it’s a book on hunting.”

“Oh!” said Roy, who came from a city and couldn’t remember the last time he saw an animal larger than a particularly fat rat, “that’s fascinating. Do you hunt?”

Riza shot him a look that spelt out, quite clearly, _why else would I read a book on hunting?_

“That’s really impressive,” said Roy, “I’ve never been hunting, but I cook. Sometimes. I like it because it’s kind of like alchemy, cooking, in that you take a large amount of ingredients, deconstruct it with heat, and combine and reconstruct it to make something _hopefully_ delicious. But of course you know that,” he added hastily, not wanting to offend Riza, “seeing as you’re the daughter of an very accomplished alchemist –”

“My daughter doesn’t have much of an interest in alchemy,” a gruff voice interrupted. Roy shot up and whirled around, almost stumbling on the steps.

“Sir!” he said, extending his hand, “I’m Roy Mustang. We corresponded over letters about a possible apprenticeship?”

Master Hawkeye grunted and stomped over to the lawn, ignoring Roy’s outstretched hand.

“You’re the fifth boy who’s asked me for an apprenticeship this year,” he said, “what makes you think you’re going to be any different?”

This was it. Roy took a deep breath, and steeled himself.

“Sir. I’ve read your treatise on gaseous alchemy–”

“And? So did all other boys.”

“Yes,” said Roy, “as I hope they would, if they wished for an apprenticeship with a master alchemist, but–”

“Don’t bother sucking up to me,” Master Hawkeye interrupted, “the first and third ones left because they were brown-nosing city rats like you.”

Roy held back a twitch. The man was… slightly abrasive, yes, but he was still a genius. And Roy still loved a challenge.

“I was hoping to demonstrate to you an example of my abilities, sir,” he said, “but perhaps it would be best if you–”

“Demonstrate? I thought you were here to be taught.”

This was the _fourth_ time he was interrupted.

“I had _hoped_ , sir, to show you that I was worthy to be taught. Like I was trying to tell you, I had read your treatise of gaseous alchemy and was hoping to demonstrate to you a transmutation I thought of from it, but of course if you have a different plan in mind I would be more than happy to follow it.”

“Who taught you alchemy before this?”

Roy stood up straighter, “I am self taught.”

At that, Master Hawkeye scoffed, “All that means is that I am to witness a sloppy transmutation from a child playing at science.”

“I think you’ll find me better than that.” Confident - Roy knew for a fact that he was not ‘sloppy’. Or, indeed, any other synonyms of that word.

A considering look from Master Hawkeye - better than the thinly veiled disdain, at least.

“Tell me, boy,” Master Hawkeye said abruptly. Roy wondered if perhaps the master had forgotten his name. “What are the four classical elements in alchemy?”

_Was this a joke?_ Besides equivalent exchange, this was one of the first things an alchemist learns. 

“Air, water, earth, and fire, sir.”

“And yet we Amestrians only tend to use earth. Why is that?”

 _It must be a test. But why such basics? Was it basic? Or a test?_ Roy hesitated, “I... don’t know, sir. It could be that classical alchemists worked primarily on metal transmutations and metallurgy. Metaphysical and philosophical as the philosopher's stone is, it is still a stone. Only the panacea could be considered working with water, but like the philosopher’s stone it has never been accomplished. I suspect that working would earth is also more immediately useful. A specialist at gas alchemy can’t repair broken glass, or create a house, or fix a malfunctioning engine.”

Master Hawkeye gave no indication that Roy's answer was satisfactory. “And water and air are not as immediately useful?”

Well, you certainly couldn't use water to repair a broken water bottle. 

“Not in the same sense. It can't be used as easily in repair. Alchemists who are prepared can extract water from air to drink, for when they are thirsty. I imagine air alchemy could be vital in saving someone’s life. Plus, there are numerous elements in the air that could be transmuted out of it, such as diamond or coal. However,” said Roy, slowly, as a sadly obvious realization formed in his head, “I believe it is also harder to draw transmutation arrays when it comes to water or air. In the case of air, it would also be harder to visualize the movement of particles.”

“And fire?”

_Fire?_

“Alchemy is the scientific technique of understanding the structure of matter, decomposing it, and then reconstructing it,” Master Hawkeye recited, “but fire is not _matter_. Fire is a result of the chemical process of combustion. Amestris has been in possession of alchemy for over three hundred years, and Xerxes even longer, but to my knowledge no one has managed to create fire alchemy. Perhaps they didn’t see the need for it?” He paused, then, and stared expectantly at Roy.

If Master Hawkeye thought this question would stump Roy, he was wrong. As a child, Roy was fascinated by fire, and so had read plenty of books on the science behind it. Much to the Madame's dismay, he also tried plenty of experiments, especially with their gas oven. He'd been banned from the kitchen until the Madame was sure she could harness his interest in fire for the greater good (in this case, cooking dinner). Still, perhaps Master Hawkeye thought it was the line of questioning that would stump Roy. If so, he was right.

“Fire may be a process,” Roy answered, wondering what the hell was going on, “but flames, which are a mixture of gases, are a form of matter. If there is any part of the fire we can control, it would be the flames. As for usefulness…"

Roy thought of the cold winter nights in Central. His sisters, freezing in thin clothing. The way they'd melt in the warmth of the bar, and the smell of fried foods wafting through the room. Reading while curled up in his mother's lap, with a cup of hot cider beside him and fire flickering happily in their fireplace.

It was raining the night his mother died, and he remembered that it was dark, and he was  _so cold_. The car's lights were broken, and he didn't think anyone could find him. He wanted to snuggle with her like he usually did, because she was always warm, but she wasn't any more. Her warmth was leaching out, soaking into his clothing-

"Without fire, we wouldn’t be able to cook as well,” said Roy. He gave Riza, who was surreptitiously watching them over her book, a small smile. She ducked her head back into her book. “Fire protects us, allowing us to stay warm in the cold and giving us a light in the darkness. The control of fire by early civilization acted as a catalyst for human expansion and development.”

Master Hawkeye nodded. “Show it to me.”

_What?_

“What?” said Roy, taken aback.

“Make me a fire using alchemy,” said Master Hawkeye, “then, also using alchemy, put it out.”

 _Make you a fire using alchemy,_ thought Roy, semi hysterically, _Amestris has been using alchemy for over three hundred years and no one to your knowledge have managed fire alchemy, but sure, make the fourteen year old self-taught alchemist do it._

The thing is, though - the thing _is_ , is that off the top of his head Roy can think of at least 5 ways to set something on fire without alchemy. Lighters, matches, friction (utilized in lighters) are obvious, but also - white phosphorous can ignite at thirty degrees Celsius. Sodium violently reacts with water, and can create fire. Same with potassium, or lithium. Just about anything with enough carbon in it will catch on fire when exposed to molten metal. Hydrazine and a powerful enough oxidizer. 

But if that’s the case, then why has no one mastered fire alchemy? What’s the catch?

He looked around the estate. The ground was composed of oxygen, silicon, aluminum, iron, calcium, sodium, potassium, magnesium. The air is 70% nitrogen, 20% oxygen, the other 10% other compounds like water vapour, carbon dioxide, and methane. Plants also tend to have nitrogen and phosphorous. He could try and transmute some phosphorous or hydrazine and have it ignite in pure oxygen, but he was less knowledgeable about those reactions - and about their transmutations. He could also transmute sodium or potassium and have it react with water - he had water on him, and he knows that reaction creates a fire. However, unless he just lets the metal consume itself in the reaction, which could be dangerous as the fire could spread, it would be hard putting out the fire. He couldn't throw water on it, as it would only exacerbate the reaction. He couldn't smother it using the ground, because the ground would be _on fire_. He doubted he had the ability to move hydrogen and/or oxygen away from the reaction, and even if he could he suspected that, should he choose hydrogen, he would simply move the flame around, and should he choose oxygen he was fairly certain that the reaction would simply continue and create something worse. On the other hand, he still had his carbon dioxide array. Roy doubted that carbon dioxide would put out the flame, as the metal could react with the oxygen - but, perhaps, pure carbon? Using the carbon dioxide array was also strategically advantageous: he had already prepared the array, so he was comfortable with it, and it would show Master Hawkeye what he could do with gaseous alchemy.

That was it, then. Roy took out the chalk he kept hidden in his sleeves, and moved to a less-dead part of the ground, far away from anything flammable. There, he sketched the array for purifying metals on the ground. He then took out his bottle of water, drawing the array for separating water into its constituent elements on it. Lastly, he drew the array for converting carbon dioxide on the back of his hand.

Gingerly, he placed his hands on the first array, and raised a thin sheet of potassium from the soil, which immediately begins to tarnish as it reacted with oxygen. Then, he activated the array on the water bottle and guided the hydrogen and oxygen towards the metal.

The reaction begin immediately, the shiny silver metal sputtering and sparking brilliant violet flames. He directed more of the gases toward the metal, and the fire flared high, a contained inferno.

And it was- hot. So hot. Roy squinted against the light in his eyes and the heat against his face and the sparks, falling far too close to his clothes. He could feel his heart beating and sweat beading. The fire is - alive, he realized. Almost alive. Hungry.

His fingers hurt.

_Control. You need to control it - the spread, the light, the HEAT._

_Heat is energy. He can’t._

_You've always loved a challenge._

_Control - control the fire. The flames. Extinguish it. You know what to do._

Pressing his free hand over the carbon dioxide array, he breathed.

And ripped carbon from the air, showering graphite over the fire. It sputtered, the flames peaking and flickering as it gasped for air. Roy closed his eyes, but he could still tell, by the softening glow against his eyelids, when the fire died. 

“Not bad,” said Master Hawkeye. “you didn’t burn down my house.”

 _Close call_ , thought Roy. Although, perhaps not. The fire, although incredibly hot, didn’t spread much farther than his sheet of potassium.

His fingers twinged. Roy looked down. They were red and shiny-looking. He had burned them.

“Well, what did you notice?”

“Too hot,” said Roy immediately. “Fire is hungry - you need perfect control over it. The heat and the sparks are a problem - you need to catch the sparks, and find a way to contain the heat.”

Master Hawkeye grunted, and began heading back into the house. “Then let that be your first lesson and my first problem.”

First - “wait!” said Roy, “you mean-”

“I mean I expect the best from my apprentices, boy,” said Master Hawkeye, “no slacking off, no fooling around, and you’re going to be able to keep up with me.”

“Yes, sir!” Roy grinned, then forced it down for an appropriately grateful, serious expression. “I am honoured for the opportunity to apprentice under you, Master Hawkeye. I promise to you: you will not regret this.”

His Master made another one of his grunts, and stepped inside the house. The door closed behind him.

“You’re hurt,” said Riza.

Roy glanced down at his hands, “Ah, it’s fine. I’ve had worse from a sunburn.” That was a lie - Roy wasn’t genetically predisposed to burning in the sun, and so only had a vague idea of what a sunburn would feel like. Judging from the look on Riza’s face, he was close, but not close enough.

“I have ointment,” Riza declared. She opened the door to her house. “Come on in.”

Roy grinned, and followed behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> Q: What kind of asshole would make a fourteen year old create fire?  
> A: The same asshole who'd tattoo his alchemy notes on his daughter's back.
> 
> I've always kinda thought that, although Master Hawkeye perfected flame alchemy in secret, it was something for which Roy gave the idea. Or, at least, that Master Hawkeye was always thinking of flame alchemy, and Roy, knowingly or unknowingly, helped him expand his theory. 
> 
> I've always kind of wondered about flame alchemy. In numerous fics, Ed manages to get ahold of Roy's gloves and subsequently charcoals himself. It seems like the general consensus on flame alchemy is "really easy concept, really hard to control". Which I kinda agree with, but 'just splitting the air, directing it, and adding a spark' is so simple one has to wonder why no one's done it yet - especially if the only problem is control. And, it doesn't explain why Roy's array is so focused on fire, nor does it explain why the array on Riza's back contains info on _nuclear fusion_ (and nuclear chemistry) (see [here](http://soterianyx.tumblr.com/post/74925554706/soterianyxs-analysis-and-interpretation-of-riza)). I figured he might change the heat in the air too, seeing as he could apparently _vapourize_ communications towers without hurting the person below it, which ... might have something to do with matter-energy equivalence? (E = mc^2, also mentioned in the array.) But, I may just have to leave it to rest as 'people don't understand convection'. Anyway, I have neither the time, the inclination, the smarts, nor the education needed to try to merge nuclear chemistry, thermodynamics, and alchemy together to answer this question. Especially as the alchemy is fictional. 
> 
> Fun fact! Roy's quick 'n easy transmutation of carbon dioxide and water into ethanol could probably earn him a Nobel Prize in our world. Especially if he managed to scale up the process/manage to integrate it in a vehicle. #alternativeenergy. Originally I made up a reaction for it! 2CO2 + 5H2O --> C2H5OH + 7O2 which I cut from the fic due to it being irrelevant. My original equation didn't have + O2 at the end but it was SO HARD to balance it (afaik it's actually impossible) that I 'cheated' and made it also produce oxygen. And that's why the alcohol is "slightly fizzy"! I'm fairly certain Roy would have to product oxygen as a by-product, if going by equivalent exchange - mass should be conserved, right? That's what the coefficients are for! I'm so tired. 
> 
> The flame colour of potassium is actually violet, so it's not (just) me being extra. Please do not set any alkali metals on fire without a fume hood, proper training, and proper personal protective equipment! Metal fires are super hard to combat as they react with water to create more fire. Actually please do not set anything on fire without proper precautions.


End file.
